Shifting Gears
by Stephanie Broadchest
Summary: AU Rizzles. Jane's a mechanic. Maura's car breaks down. I've refrained from using "oil", "lube" and "look under the hood" puns. It's a soft 'M' rating.


Author's Notes: This was inspired by a very old Law & Order SVU story called "Greasemonkey" by Nic. I couldn't see it here but you can find it on ralst-dot-com under the SVU tag. Just a little AU with a dash of smut.

Disclaimer: I of course own neither of these characters. Even in AU form, they belong to Tess Gerritsen

XxXxXxX

There was a smell to the garage that would never leave it, and it was just the way Jane Rizzoli liked it. It was the aroma of grease and gas, cars and rubber, oil and hard work. It wasn't a dirty garage- her pride would never allow it- but it didn't pretend to be anything other than it was. She had been in the high end garages where everything was so sterile she wondered if they put drop cloths down while they worked. That wasn't her style. She was who she was, and the garage was a reflection of her. It took a while for the guys to accept her when her father handed over the keys, but she proved them wrong by not only knowing twice as much as the old gear heads did about engines, but by working twice as hard. Six years later and little had changed. Friday night, while everyone else had punched out at 5, Jane had her head under the hood of a car. The client wouldn't pick it up until Monday, but Jane prided herself on her work ethic. Besides, it wasn't as if she had anything else to do. She stood back and wiped her brow with a clean rag while allowing the cool air of the A/C to caress her face. The summer had been a bitch with temperatures reaching record numbers, and it was another reason she didn't mind working late. The minute the rest of the guys left, Jane had tied the arms of the smock around her waist and revelled in the coolness offered by her white tank top.

She was just about to go back under the hood when a flash of lights cut through the garage door windows into the work area. A quick glance at the wall showed 9:25. When it became obvious the lights weren't leaving, Jane shouted out, "We're closed!" A shadow filled one of the windows and though she couldn't make out exact details, it was clear someone was trying to look in. "I said we're closed! Dammit," she grumbled under her breath. Making her way closer to the window, the image of the person came into focus. A woman. Long hair, though in the low light Jane couldn't tell much else.

"Please, I'm desperate!"

The alarm in the woman's voice immediately brought Jane's protective nature to the fore. Quickly, she unlocked the door. "You okay?"

"Oh, thank you!" the woman said. "It's my car."

The words took the edge off Jane's concern. "Shit, lady, I thought it was an emergency." She looked around to make sure this wasn't some kind of set-up. Last thing she needed was to be distracted by a beautiful woman only to be ambushed by a partner.

"But it is," the woman said. "It's my car."

"Yeah, got that the first time you said it. Make an appointment." She went to shut the door when a designer shoe stepped forward and stopped it.

"Please. I will pay you whatever you want."

A dark brow arched. "Lady, people pay me whatever I want anyway." It was true- her dyed-in-the-wool Ferrari-loving Italian father spent years building a business that was known as the best exotic car garage in Boston. He could never afford the car he loved, so he had figured out another way to be near them. Jane's attention to detail only grew the business even more. When people brought their Porsches and their Audis and their Maseratis into the shop, they had open wallets. Not that Jane took advantage. That wouldn't be good for business. But someone waving Benjamins under her nose at 9:30 at night wasn't going to impress her much.

"I know," Designer Shoe replied. "That's why I'm here. You come very highly recommended. I was going to leave it until Monday, but I got halfway home from work and I knew I couldn't wait. I barely made it here."

The comment about coming home from work earned the woman a measure of respect and a moment of Jane's time. Knowing she was ahead of schedule on the other car, she relented. "Fine. Let's see it. Can you bring it in?"

"I think so."

While the woman returned to her car, Jane grasped the chains that opened the garage door and yanked them down like a sailor on a boat. She was glad the links caught in the teeth of the pulley, because both her hands and her mouth dropped when the car sputtered in.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

XxXxXxX

Maura carefully pulled the car into the garage when the mechanic's reaction caught her eye. She was used to people- mostly men- gawking at her, but rarely did anyone give that kind of rapt attention to her vehicle. There was an oddly erotic edge to the way the woman started walking around the car, her fingers hovering over the edges and curves while she gaped openly. Maura felt a flush creep up her neck. She was here to get her car fixed, nothing more. She got out but her appearance did nothing to interrupt the brunette's examination, who had completed a 360 before speaking.

"Mercedes-Benz 250SL," Jane breathed. "1967?"

"Yes," Maura replied. "How did you know?"

"Your rear-view mirror is chrome instead of black plastic. European model, too." She pointed to the fenders. "No reflectors. They were standard issue over here for safety reasons."

Maura couldn't help but smile. "You're very good."

The reply was a loaded one. "You don't know the half of it."

The comment hung between them while each woman measured the other. In the bright light of the garage, they were now able to fill in the details the darkness at the door had hidden. The mechanic stood tall and lean in her baggy overalls that hung low enough to be lascivious, though she seemed oblivious to her appearance. Dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a long neck and strong shoulders. The tank top clung to her like a second skin, hinting at a lithe muscular body that made Maura lick her lips. In return, Jane's eyes roamed from the designer shoes that got them here in the first place, up shapely calves to a form fitting something that was hidden under a cream-white coat that Jane was sure cost as much as her rent. Blonde hair was revealed under the florescent lights, and her own dark eyes were caught by hazel ones. _Caught._

Clearing her throat of nothing, Jane remarked, "Jane Rizzoli. I'd shake your hand, but…" She held out two hands, smudged with grease, for inspection.

"Maura Isles," she replied, acknowledging the apology with a tip of her head.

They stared at each other for another minute before Jane said, "That car's gotta be an oven. European models didn't come with A/C."

Taking this as a cue to rid herself of her coat, Maura slipped off the garment and looked expectantly at Jane who took it silently and hung it on a nearby peg, her eyes never leaving Maura.

"What else can you tell me about the car?" Maura asked.

Breaking the eye contact, Jane started another tour around the vehicle. "It was Mercedes attempt to improve the 230," she began. "Gave it a new engine and rear disc brakes. 150 horsepower. Bigger gas tank and better torque. Stiff handling but I bet it jumps off the line at a green light."

Maura could only nod. The sensual gravel of this woman's voice pinned her to the floor.

Oblivious, or at least pretending to be, Jane continued her examination, once again, her fingers barely touching the steel like a kind of reverence. "Short production run," she went on. "Less than 5200 made. 1800 found their way here after Mercedes had to do a shit load of changes." She wrinkled her nose. "The reflectors. The emission control equipment. The Kangol seat belts." She said these like she took it as a personal affront. But her scowl changed when a thought crossed her mind. "4-speed manual transmission? Wait… tell me it's the ZF."

Maura smiled at the excitement over a simple 5-speed transmission. "Yes, it's the ZF." The moan from the brunette dropped the smile from her face as her lips went dry again.

"So what's wrong with it?" Jane asked.

The question, though clear, confused her. "I don't know. That's why I brought it in."

Jane smirked. "What I mean is, what made you bring it in? A noise? Something not working?"

"Oh! Right. It seems to have started stuttering."

"Jerking back and forth when you get it going?"

"Yes."

"Sounds like your fuel pump filter. Let me take a look. Can you start the car for me?"

XxXxXxX

Jane watched those calves swivel into the seat and suddenly wondered if the shop's A/C had stopped working because the temperature in the room seemed to go up 10 degrees. Tearing her eyes from the visual delight, she ordered herself to get it together. _She came in to get her car fixed, not to get leered at,_ she silently derided herself. The engine turned, pulling Jane out of her private scolding. She popped the hood to focus at the job at hand. The engine gleamed back at her in all its glory, and for a brief second, she forgot about the woman behind the wheel. This wasn't just her job, it was her passion and she only knew how to give 100%. She narrowed down the source of the stuttering, wiped her hands on a rag, then carefully used it to gently lower the hood.

Giving the signal to turn the engine off, Jane then said, "Okay, two things. First, it's the fuel pump filter. Nothing serious, just a buildup of gunk that's stopping the gas from getting to the engine. That's an easy fix. Second, you bring this car to me from now on, not some half-assed detail shop."

Maura got out of the car. "What do you mean?"

"The engine is spotless. You've taken this car in somewhere else to get detailed. I don't like it."

Jane's personal outrage made Maura laugh. "I see. I will refrain from doing so in the future. As for the first thing, how long will it take to fix?"

"I can get the part in by Monday."

Maura's face fell. "Oh. You can't do it now?"

"It's a high-end car that needs a high-end part. Normally it'd take a week to get that kind of part in. But I know some people." She saw Maura's uncertain expression. "I'm sure you've got another car to drive in the meantime."

"I do."

A thousand options ran through Jane's mind based on the classic that was sitting in her garage. "Wait, let me guess. I'm betting something German, like the Mercedes. So that's either Porsche or Audi."

"Toyota. Prius."

She looked at Maura blankly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." She looked at the Mercedes then back to Maura. "A Prius? Really? I don't know whether to punish you by taking even longer to get the part in, or break into the parts shop now because a woman like you shouldn't be seen in a Prius."

Maura blushed at the compliment. "I'll wear a large hat and sunglasses to disguise myself."

"Okay." They shared a smile, then Jane said, "Do you have a husband who can come and pick you up?"

"I'm not married."

The information was given almost as an invitation, and it was one Jane wasn't going to turn down. "Then let me give you a ride home."

Maura's refusal was a half-hearted one, more for show than actual objection, but Jane knew it was given as a way for her to change her mind, to take back her offer. The thought never crossed her mind.

"My car's in the back. Give me a second to change and shut everything down."

Five minutes later, Jane stepped out of the manager's office in a pair of jeans and a black tank top.

"Do you have a collection of those back there?" Maura asked.

Looking down at her shirt, Jane got the joke. "Yeah. I've got stock in Fruit of the Loom. You ready?"

It was an innocent question loaded with meaning.

Maura nodded. "Yes."

XxXxXxX

The ride was quiet, filled only by Maura's directions. There was a gentle nervousness that permeated through the car from both women. Though not a stranger to fulfilling her needs with casual one-night stands, Maura had never taken someone home. It always ended up in a high-end hotel where ties could be cut cleanly when it was all over. Names would never have to be exchanged and intentions were always clear. Taking someone home meant opening the door- literally and figuratively- to someone and something more. She glanced over at the brunette, admired her profile and her beauty, and was surprised to find herself intrigued rather than wary at the prospect.

Jane's hesitation was rooted deeper. Outside of the comfort zone of her garage, she only had to look at the woman to her right to be reminded how far she was from that social standing. Everything about the woman screamed 'Rich!', and it was everything Jane wasn't. And yet when it came right down to it, it didn't matter. _It was only going to be one night_ , she reminded herself. _We're not picking out china patterns._ In the end, it was just sex and everyone was the same. At a red light, Jane stole a glance at Maura, her eyes finding all the places she wanted to mark with her mouth. When Maura's legs parted slightly in open invitation, Jane couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. A quick look up caught hazel eyes in the red glow of the street light. Only when the shadow changed to green was Jane able to tear her eyes away. White knuckled on the steering wheel, it took everything in her not to put her foot through the accelerator.

Maura watched her struggle and wanted to assure the brunette that she wasn't alone, that she felt the same shallow breathing, felt the same pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat, felt her nipples harden in aroused anticipation. She wondered if she should tell her that the air that gently blew under her skirt between her parted legs did nothing to cool the heat between them. She pulled her attention from Jane and found a reflection of herself in the passenger mirror she barely recognized. She was a stranger to the raw carnal need her eyes demanded. Her legs squeezed together in sympathy.

The motion caught Jane's attention again and she felt the need to lay her cards on the table, despite not knowing what kind of hand she held. "I normally… uh, I don't drive my clients home."

She said it as if she wasn't quite sure they were on the same page, and at last, the tension was lifted. Maura leaned her head back, closed her eyes and laughed. Seeking out a strong hand on the stick shift, she brushed across Jane's knuckles. "And I don't let people drive me home." The meaning was clear. "Take a right at the end of the street. Third house on the left."

Jane pulled into the driveway and killed the engine and watched the blonde gracefully extract herself from the car. When Jane didn't immediately follow, Maura leaned into the passenger side.

"If you don't come inside, I'll be forced to have sex with you in your car. And the neighbors will talk."

The door closed and Jane burst out laughing.

XxXxXxX

"This is nice," Jane said, stepping into the house. "Beacon Hill. Classic car. What is it you do for a living?"

Maura started to slip off her heels but was stopped with a look. "I see," was all she said. Leaving them on, she walked into the open kitchen and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. "I'm a doctor."

Jane nodded appreciatively as she followed behind. "Your patients are very lucky."

Maura carefully worked the cork back and forth. "They're dead."

Both eyebrows shot up. "You mean, they're dead after they see you or they're already dead? Because I'd be worried it it was the first, and if it's the second," she shrugged, "kinda defeats the purpose of seeing a doctor, doesn't it?"

She smiled. "I'm a medical examiner. I perform autopsies." The cork softly popped and she poured a small amount into one of the glasses. "I suspect you're more of a beer drinker, so I apologize. This is all I have."

"Maybe next time," Jane whispered into her ear. Coming up behind Maura, she pressed the blonde between her body and the counter. She covered her glass with her hand before Maura had a chance to pour the wine. Wordlessly, she turned Maura around and downed the glass of wine in three deep swallows.

"That's a Château Le Pin!" Maura said, mortified. "It's meant to be savored, to linger on-"

Jane captured the rest of the words with her mouth. They had tiptoed around the sexual tension all evening, but there was no hesitancy in the kiss. Lips bruised together and bodies sought to get closer to each other. Hands raced to find bare skin previously unseen. Jane's fingers were both soft and calloused in a balance that made Maura moan. She opened her legs as much as Jane settled her hips between them and both women pulled away from their kiss long enough to look into each other's eyes.

"There's only one thing I want to savor," Jane said.

The come-on would have been a cheesy one from anyone other than the woman who looked at Maura with dark desire in her eyes. Without breaking eye contact, Maura slid her hands under her skirt and slowly divested herself of her underwear. When she couldn't lower her arms any farther, Jane took over and reverently dropped to her knees. The lace made it over one heel then another, then found a home somewhere in the living room as Jane flung the garment over her shoulder. Maura's laugh caught in her throat when Jane's mouth found what she was looking for.

"Shit!" The rare epitaph left Maura's lips. "You don't… you don't waste any… any time, do you?"

"I figured the last hour has been foreplay," Jane said, looking up from between Maura's legs. "But I could start from the top if you want."

"Don't you dare," was the reply, along with a firm fist in Jane's hair. Maura hooked a chair closer with her heel and rested her foot on the stretcher, allowing better access for Jane's talented mouth. Jane complied with a chuckle that vibrated against Maura's clit. "Shit!" she said again.

Jane hadn't been sure what she was going to do once she stepped into the house. Her one-night stands could be written on a postage stamp with room left over. She wasn't a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but the last 6 years had been focused on the business at the expense of a personal life. She was worried she'd be rusty, but based on the reactions of the woman above her, those concerns were entirely unfounded. Hips met her mouth, demanding more, and Jane was only all too willing to comply. Teeth nipped lightly, causing Maura to jump and Jane to smile. As an apology, she flicked her tongue over the sensitive clit before pulling it into her mouth. Maura ground down harder.

"Yes," she encouraged. "Yes." Though by the very virtue of her position, Maura should have been the one in control, there was something in the way Jane had taken charge that made Maura feel anchorless. She was never not in control. The thought only turned her on more. "Yes."

The chair squeaked across the hardwood floor in tiny increments, protesting at Maura's treatment as she tried to use it for leverage to get closer to Jane's mouth. Neither woman noticed, just as the wine glass hitting the floor was completely overshadowed by Maura's race to the precipice of release. Her hand reached back for some kind of purchase on the marble countertop, anything to ground her as the impending orgasm threatened to overwhelm her.

It shouldn't have surprised her when Jane whispered, "I'll catch you."

A kaleidoscope of light flashed behind her eyelids, despite how tightly she had squeezed them together. Her body went rigid for a brief moment, every muscle taut, every nerve alive. If she had had the ability to think, she would have wondered if she had hurt Jane by grabbing such a handful of hair, but her mind demanded she only feel, and what she felt was amazing. Light. Free. Satisfied.

But not fully satiated. Knowing what the woman could do with her mouth only made Maura wonder what she could do with her hands. Those soft calloused fingers. Finding an ounce of strength from a reserve she didn't know she had, she tugged Jane up to her feet and immediately captured her mouth with her own. The kiss was raw and graceless and hungry. Grabbing Jane's hand in hers, Maura brought it up to her mouth and sensually kissed each fingertip.

"Sorry," Jane apologized, somewhat abashedly. Maura encouraged her to explain with a look. "I can never totally get the grease to go away."

A thought occurred to Maura. "Is that why you used your mouth? Are you embarrassed about your hands?"

Jane shrugged but her expression said it all. "You're pristine and put together and… I'm not."

"What if I told you I find working hands very sexy?"

"I'd think you might have some kind of blue collar fetish. That's it, isn't it?" Her smirk softened the accusation. "You got a thing for middle class fucks."

Maura's mouth dropped open. "I'll have you know, you're the only middle class fuck I've… fucked." She frowned at the repetition. "Besides, something makes me think you have a thing for upper class… fucks." She frowned again at the grammar.

"Oh, I'm not the one who's thinking about rough working hands all over my body," Jane said.

"I'm not the one thinking about how it would be to have a 'rich bitch' beg me to fuck her." Though Maura stumbled over the term, the words hit their mark and Jane's eyes went black. "That's it, isn't it?" Maura asked, using Jane's words against her. "Do you want me to beg, Jane?" It was the first time she had used the name, and it made the brunette shudder. Maura slowly dragged Jane's fingers down her body, over pebble-hard nipples, until they touched the hem of her skirt. "Is that what you want?" Jane didn't have to speak- her expression said it all. "Please, Jane," Maura whispered, "fuck me."

The intrusion of Jane's fingers was both a surprise and a completion. The force in which Jane entered her lifted her to her tiptoes, and she wiped away Jane's concern with a bruising kiss. As her hands circled around Jane's shoulders, she felt an arm wrap around her hips, holding her in place while devilish fingers found secret places Maura never knew she had. Hot breath caressed her face and she held Jane's gaze as long as she could. In fact, her determination was so resolute that the second orgasm caught her by surprise, and Jane moaned at the change in her expression.

"Yes." This time it was Jane to offer the benediction before Maura collapsed in her arms.

XxXxXxX

The morning sun cut a band of light across the bed, and Maura stretched into a groan. A twinge between her legs woke her immediately. The bed was empty except for her, but she knew she wasn't alone. This was new for her, and for once in her life, she wasn't sure what to do. Every other sexual encounter ended with her leaving the hotel in the middle of the night with a note and the bill paid. This time, she didn't leave; she couldn't leave. It was her house. And her bedmate didn't leave, either. There was something about it that made her happy. Happy to know Jane's first thought wasn't to leave at the first opportunity. Cracking open an eye, she watched the brunette slip on her tank top. It was when she started putting on her jeans that Maura realized what she was doing.

"You're going?"

Maura's voice startled her and she jumped. "Jesus!" Fastening the top button, she shrugged. "I thought that's what you'd want. Avoid the dreaded morning after."

"It's not dreaded," Maura said, surprised at how quickly she admitted it. "Not with you."

The answer seemed to surprise Jane, but in a good way, because a smile slowly spread across her face. "Okay. That's… good." She looked at Maura delectably spread out across the bed, hair tousled, eyes still cloudy with desire. "But I gotta get home. Have a shower and change. Can't do the walk of shame into the garage. The guys would never let that go."

"Change? How will they ever know?"

It took a second for the sarcasm to hit Jane. "Oh, I get it. The shirt. Very funny. What's going to be really funny is me trying to find a shirt in 100 degree weather to cover these." She pointed accusingly at the welts on her neck and shoulders.

Maura was nonplussed by the accusation. "I can barely walk, so I consider ourselves even."

Jane sauntered over to the bed. Kneeling on the edge, she said, "So I guess we brought out the worst in each other."

"On the contrary, I think we brought out the best."

Jane considered the point before saying, "I guess that's what happens when the classes work together." She leaned down and gently kissed Maura.

"For the record, there's nothing wrong with being blue collar," Maura said.

"And you're not a 'rich bitch'," Jane replied.

They stared into each other's eyes for a long time, wondering where they went from here. Promises were silently made, and fears were quietly assuaged.

"So I'll see you Monday," Jane said.

Though she was about to protest the delay in seeing each other again, Maura understood the need to not rush things. It was new ground for both of them, new territory they'd have to navigate slowly. So instead of objecting, she brought her down for a final kiss to remind her of what she'd be missing. Jane returned it fervently.

"I gotta… mmmm… go… you… we gotta… stop."

Maura laughed against Jane's lips. "Then go."

Jane stood and her eyes devoured the image of Maura splayed out, sheets tangled around her waist, breasts offered unashamed. Coughing, Jane repeated, "So I'll see you Monday." She got to the bedroom door before turning around. "Don't you dare bring the Prius."

Maura's laughter followed her out of the house and carried her through the day.

XxXxXxX


End file.
